


The Love Languages of Michael Bergen

by BloodAndRosesBitch



Series: DunBerg Love Languages [2]
Category: Two Guys a Girl and a Pizza Place
Genre: Berg Is In Love With Pete, Fluff, M/M, once again this is just the boys being in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-24
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-15 11:53:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 1,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29683560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BloodAndRosesBitch/pseuds/BloodAndRosesBitch
Summary: I was inspired by this post (https://nostalgic-suggestions.tumblr.com/post/640604360449114112/love-languages-part-3-blurry-photos-taken-mid) on alternative love languages that I thought sounded like Berg, so I decided to write a story for each love language.
Relationships: Michael Bergen/Pete Dunville
Series: DunBerg Love Languages [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2181276
Kudos: 3





	1. "blurry photos taken mid laughter"

It was hot this summer in Oakgrove, Kansas. Berg and Pete had traveled with Bill to the midwest, of all places, for the 14th annual BreadFest. Bill had wanted only Pete to come with him, but it was simple, really. Berg and Pete were packaged deal. They needed each other, especially at amazingly boring events like these. It was a matter of needing the other's entertainment. They thought the same things were funny, things Including but not limited to: Berg himself, Shakespeare, and making fun of people. This last one is of particular importance right now, because it is what they happened to be doing.

Berg looped his arm around Pete's shoulders, giggling feverishly as a man in a giant croissant costume ambled past them, blowing into a bugle like he was trying to proclaim something. Pete had stuffed his face into Berg's neck, huffing warm, damp air against Berg's skin, going hysterical in the most discreet manner possible.

"...Like the unholy..." Pete wheezed. "...Lovechild of a... human and... a croissant!" And burst into another fit of uncontrollable laughter.

Berg reached into his pocket for the disposable camera and snapped a picture of the two of them having their laughing fit.

"That's gonna be... so blurry," he choked out.

"Memories," Pete snorted wisely.


	2. "running your thumb over their knuckles when you're holding someone's hand"

Berg sat next to Pete, uncomfortable plastic chairs digging into their backs. The lights were florescent and sanitary, much like everything else in the hospital. White coated the walls and floors and desks, and Berg couldn't wait to get out of there.

He couldn't leave, though.

Pete was hunched up in his seat, one shift short of being in the fetal position, eyes stuck on the door to the real hospital-y part of the hospital.

Berg didn't speak, didn't dare disturb Pete from his worry-induced pseudo-coma. Instead, he gently pried Pete's right hand from the armrest and held it in his left, rhythmically rubbing his thumb over Pete's knuckles.

Pete blinked, and Berg could swear he saw a tiny tiny tiny bit of tension melt from his posture.


	3. "reading a book someone mentioned, not necessarily to talk to them about it but just to understand them even a little better"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was one of my favorites that I wrote <3
> 
> I know Wolf Brother post-dates tgagaapp by a few years, but I had to put it in there.

"So wait, you're telling me out of all your reading as a kid, you've never read _Wolf Brother_?"

Berg shook his head, smirking. "Nah, I never really got into fantasy. I wasn't a nerd like you!"

Pete rolled his eyes. "It's more than fantasy, Berg. I wasn't a nerd either. Half the kids in my 3rd grade read it. It's the best. Absolutely."

"I'm sure. And capybaras aren't a secret race of reptiles hiding in rodent bodies so they can eventually overthrow us."

"They're not."

"If you say so!" Berg elbowed Pete in the ribs and winked.

Pete folded his arms across his chest. "Okay, if you're so smart, what books did you read as a kid?"

" _How to Win Friends and Influence People,_ by Dale Carnegie."

Pete snorted. "That is not a real book."

Berg batted his eyelashes. "How do you think I got so smooth?"

"Get real."

"I am real. It was required reading from dear old dad. I guess he figured if he taught me how to make friends and get what I wanted, I wouldn't mind that he was never there for me when I needed him." Berg laughed, and Pete stared at him for a moment, blinking.

"I... didn't know that."

Berg paused. "That was supposed to be funny."

Pete sighed, and ran a hand through his hair. "How is that funny?"

Berg shrugged. "It's hilarious."

"It's not funny, it's sad."

"I'm going to the store. You want anything?"

Pete rolled his eyes. "You can't just walk away from this conversation, Berg. It's good to talk about things."

Berg patted Pete on the head. "Oh, you sweet summer child. I just did." And he trotted out of their apartment. As soon as he was on the sidewalk he booked it in the direction of the corner store, and didn't stop when he passed it. He ran and ran and ran until he was completely out of breath, until he felt like he was going to fall over. The burning in his legs and lungs felt good though, it felt right. It was easy to pinpoint where that pain was coming from and that made it pure.

He finally stopped, bending over and wheezing with his hands braced on his knees, in front of a used bookstore. The sign read "Blackbird Books" in pink neon.

"Why not?" Berg muttered to himself, and stepped inside. A bell jingled cheerfully, and a woman looked up.

"Hello! Can I help you find anything?"

"No, thank-- actually," Berg said, putting his hands in his pockets. "Yeah, do you have a book called _Wolf Brother_?"

The lady laughed, her green eyes glittering. "Yes, I just bought a copy from a child this morning! It's still in my stock pile, let me go get it for you!"

Berg watched as she went into the backroom of the store. He walked up to where she had a small counter and a cash register. She was gone for no more than two minutes, and she came back with a small paperback in hand.

"Is that all?" He nodded silently and she rang him up. "$4 even, please."

He shuffled around in his wallet for a second, then handed her the money. She gave him the book.

"Take care," she called as he walked away.

He turned around, caught off guard. "Oh, yeah. You too."

Berg headed back the way he'd come, towards their apartment. He'd have to apologize to Pete, probably. He stopped when he got to their building, the bricks towering over him like a giant and maybe more intimidating than one.

Well, if he wasn't going to say sorry right now, he might as well try and understand Pete a little better. It was warm enough out here, anyway. Berg glanced at the book in his hands, and sat down on the concrete steps, flipping it open to the first page reverently.

* * *

It was sunset before Pete found him outside. He was five pages away from the end when Pete sat down next to him, causing him to jump.

"Whatcha readin'?"

Berg blushed, and Pete raised an eyebrow. "Nothing."

Pete snorted. "C'mon, let me see." Berg hesitantly lifted it up so Pete could see. His eyes went wide, then soft, and he brushed Berg's cheek with his thumb, a small smile growing across his features. "You moron." Berg opened his mouth to object, but Pete leaned over and pressed a kiss to his lips before he could say anything. "My sweet, beautiful moron."


	4. "writing lists for someone else"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this is a bounty hunter AU. It takes place in kind of a fantasy-ish world that I haven't totally nailed down the details of yet, but the important thing for this snippet is that magic is real. Don't ask me where the idea came from, or what that has to do with writing lists, but it was fun to write and I hope it's interesting to read! I'll probably turn this into a full story once I'm done with the other ongoing fics I'm writing (maybe after the coffee shop AU is done, too; we'll see how well I can multitask).
> 
> Magus Summus = Magician paramount, essentially the most powerful magician in this world. They are directly under the monarch, hierarchy-wise.

Pete's head rested on Berg's bare chest, eyes fluttering closed. There were bruises all up his arm and side, and his shoulder was sloppily bandaged, but he was safe and so was Berg, and they were in a warm, downy bed. Dozing softly. This hotel wasn't home, but it was somewhere close. They were together. That was what mattered, or at least that's usually what it came down to these days.

Pete's eyes shot open. "Berg, Berg, I just realized something." The words came out a one big one, a slur of sounds on sounds.

Berg wrapped a comforting arm around Pete, making sure to avoid the injuries. "What is it, baby?"

Pete winced. "I have to prepare those components for the Magus Summus. They've got to be ready by noon tomorrow, and I'm gonna forget. He won't like to see my wounds either. What am I gonna do?"

Berg reached over to the night table, where the customary note pad and pen had been left. "I'll make you a list. What do you need to do?"

"I need to gather some blueberries, a birch stick, and a phoenix feather. I also have to write up the notes that he gave me last week, and fill out the reports for our last catch." Berg wrote as Pete talked, until they had a sizable list of the tasks that Pete had narrated, broken down as simple as they could go. Pete stopped, and Berg put the notepad and pen back down.

"We'll get it in the morning. You need to sleep."

"What have you done with my Berg?"

Berg blinked, and laughed softly. "Just tired."

"We did have a big day, didn't we?" Pete pressed two kisses to Berg's torso, one on each side of his collarbone, and closed his eyes, finally at rest. Berg smiled softly and tried his best to fall asleep, though he knew it would not come.


	5. "playing with their hair"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for recreation drug use. The actual doing drugs isn't seen, but Berg is high.

Berg was laying belly-up on the couch when Pete got home. Berg felt like he was falling, not quite real. His body was something liquid, and his head was stuck on a stake on top of Mt. Everest. He was a cut-out from a magazine of someone else's daydream, all the colors enhanced with Photoshop until they were too bright to bare.

Pete peered down at him, squinting. "Berg?"

"Petey! Have I told you lately how much I love fish?"

"Um... no?"

"It's to Pluto and back. Farther, even. I'm a bird with a space suit on, and if I could figure out how to get my wing-engines running again, I'd show you. I'd fly to Pluto and bring you back some."

"Some... what?"

"Some Pluto."

Pete picked Berg's lanky legs up and sat down on the couch, then unceremoniously let his feet drop back down onto his lap. "What drug?"

"Huh?"

"I know you're high. You always manage to work in how much you love fish when you get high. I want to know what to expect. So, which drug?"

Berg blew a raspberry. "Not important," he announced, sitting up suddenly and leaning close to Pete's face. "Can I touch your hair?"

Pete shrugged. "Go for it, buddy."

"Thanks." Berg threaded his fingers through Pete's short hair, massaging his scalp. It was nice. Pete's hair was always softer than soft. "Have I told you lately how good your hair is?"

"No."

"So good." Berg leaned into the crook of Pete's neck, pressing his face into Pete's skin and giving him an accidental sloppy kiss. "Smells good too," Berg mumbled, into Pete's neck.

Pete shivered under Berg's touch. Berg grinned and bit gently at the soft skin. Pete shivered again, letting out a little gasp.

"I think I understand women pretty well, but one thing I'll never understand is why they break up with you," Berg told Pete, his tone somehow sheepish and serious at the same time.

"You sound like you'd date me yourself if you could," Pete said, attempting weakly to make it sound like a joke.

"Ha ha ha. Can I?"

Pete blinked. "I don't think that'd be a good idea."

"Why?"

Pete opened his mouth, and closed it again. Berg continued to rub his scalp. He pressed his lips into Pete's neck again, this time as coordinated as he could be while in his current altered state. "Oh, right. You're high," Pete pointed out as soon as Berg's skin had lifted from his. "You have no idea what you're saying. Or doing."

"No time to be defensive. Life as we know it could change forever tomorrow."

"What's happening tomorrow?"

"Life," Berg replied sagely. Pete almost laughed. Berg really didn't change all that much when he was high.

Silence descended on them. Night had fallen while Berg was rambling, and there wasn't much else to be done. Pete let Berg keep petting him, because the touch felt good. Berg kept doing it because... well, I think you know.

It was love.


End file.
